Row: That doe the flowery spring prolong,
    Cho: So much the earth doth in her presence ioy,
    Row: And keeps the plenteous summer young: 
    Cho: And doth asswage
               The wrathfull winters rage
               That would our flocks destroy.

    Row: Ioue saw her brest that naked lay,
    Cho: A sight alone was fit for Ioue to see:  20
    Row: And swore it was the milkie way,
    Cho: Of all most pure,
               The path (we vs assure)
               Vnto Ioues court to be.

    Row: He saw her tresses hanging downe.
    Cho: That too and fro were mooued with the ayre,
    Row: And sayd that Ariadnes crowne,
    Cho: With those compar’d: 
               The gods should not regard
               Nor Berenices hayre. 30

    Row: When she hath watch’d my flockes by night,
    Cho: O happie were the flockes that she did keepe: 
    Row: They neuer needed Cynthia’s light,
    Cho: That soone gaue place,
               Amazed with her grace,
               That did attend thy sheepe.

    Row: Aboue where heauens hie glories are,
    Cho: When as she shall be placed in the skies,
    Row: She shall be calld the shepheards starre,
    Cho: And euermore, 40
               We shepheards will adore,
               Her setting and her rise.

APPENDIX

In this Appendix, I have collected certain fugitive pieces of Drayton’s; chiefly commendatory verses prefixed to various friends’ books.  The first song is from England’s Helicon, and is, I think, too pretty to be lost.  Three of the commendatory poems are in sonnet-form, and their inclusion brings us nearer the whole number published by Drayton; of which there are doubtless a few still lacking.  But I have tried to make the collection of sonnets as complete as possible.

From England’s Helicon (1600) p. 97.

Rowlands Madrigall.

    Faire Loue rest thee heere,
    Neuer yet was morne so cleere,
    Sweete be not vnkinde,
    Let me thy fauour finde,
        Or else for loue I die.

    Harke this pretty bubling spring,
    How it makes the Meadowes ring,
    Loue now stand my friend,
    Heere let all sorrow end,
        And I will honour thee. 10

    See where little Cupid lyes,
    Looking babies in her eyes.
    Cupid helpe me now,
    Lend to me thy bowe,
        To wound her that wounded me.